


Session Notes

by SkyScribbles



Series: It Feels Like Light [5]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Trauma, Empath, Fractured Alliances, M/M, Post Crisis On Umbara, T7 Is Too Pure For This World, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyScribbles/pseuds/SkyScribbles
Summary: Client's Name: Zethak Menet. Client's rank in Alliance: Commander. Reason for seeking counselling: Emotional trauma after mission to Umbara.





	Session Notes

**Author's Note:**

> The narrator is my Jedi Consular, a healer and empath, who I headcanon as surviving the war with Zakuul and ending up with the Alliance.

**CLIENT RECORD**

**Healer's name:** Master Leliyari Ayen

**Client’s name:** Master Zethak Menet

**Client's rank in Alliance:** Commander

**Reason for seeking counselling:** Emotional trauma after mission to Umbara

* * *

_**Sess**_ ** _ion:_ ** _One_

The Commander arrived to the session exactly five minutes early. Jedi efficiency at its finest. A Knight may leave the Order, but the Order never really leaves a Knight. He smiled at me, made polite small talk, settled himself into a chair – and all the while, his aura in the Force splintered and cracked and shattered apart.

I always knew this might happen. The leader of a group like the Alliance has to endure so much. They must carry the burden of knowing that the choices they make affect an entire galaxy. They must be held accountable for every mistake, however small. They must come to terms with the fact that every soldier who dies in the line of duty has done so on their orders.

When the Alliance reached out to me, I didn't go to them as a fighter, I came as a healer. Not only because I knew there would be countless soldiers who would die without a Force-healer's touch, but because there would be many more who would die in a different way if they had no one to talk to. They would lie awake at nights, remembering the ways they saw their comrades die. Thinking of the choices they made - to sacrifice one friend for another, to let five people die so ten could live. The pain would gnaw at their insides and it would consume them, unless someone helped to ease it. And I am an empath. A healer of minds. I can search a soul, sense its pain, help to shake it free. I’m the one who made sure that anyone in the Alliance who needed counselling would have someone to turn to – and the Commander should be no exception.

I knew him, back when he was the Battlemaster of the Order and I was the newest member of the Council. I’m not sure many others in the Alliance know how much he went through, even before the Zakuul invasion. So once I found my way to the Alliance, I told him again and again that if he ever needed my help, he would have it.

But I never thought it would happen like this.

‘Tell me what happened on Umbara.’

I know what happened, of course. Everyone knows. But I wanted to hear it from him, so I could sense his emotions as he described every detail. The moment when the forcefield came down between the two of them, a thin wall of red separating him from the man he loved, and the world fragmented beneath his feet. The quiet, broken question – _did you ever love me, or was that all part of the act?_ The wind on his face as he watched the shuttle, now hopelessly out of reach, disappear among the clouds.

‘He left.’ The Commander spoke only barely above a whisper. ‘Until I saw his ship vanish, I think I really believed I’d catch up to him, and we’d talk, and – and things would be all right. He left. I was standing there begging him to stay, to listen, and he _left._ ’

He breathed in, a long, shuddering sound. His astromech – who had insisted on accompanying him to the session – let out a mournful whirr.

I wasn’t surprised by most of what I sensed from the Commander. Raw pain. Yawning grief. Desperation. Hopelessness. But what did surprise me was that there were no feelings of anger or betrayal. Instead - 

‘You feel… guilty,’ I said, and received a tiny nod in response. ‘Would you be able to tell me why?’

His reply came instantly. ‘How did I not see this? If Theron had been harbouring resentment for so long, if he’d been so deeply hurt, if he’d – if he’d stopped believing in me… how could I have not seen that?’ Anger swelled in his aura, but I knew it wasn’t for Theron. It was for himself. ‘I should have seen it. I should have done something, talked to him about it. How can I claim to love him when he was in so much pain and I never even _saw?’_

‘Theron was SIS,’ I reminded him. ‘If anyone in the Alliance could conceal their emotions, it would be him. More importantly - this was not your doing. Theron was the one who chose to let that bitterness fester and consume him. He was the one who chose not to speak of it to you. He was the one who chose to hurt you like this.’

‘I know,’ he said, and I sensed a new emotion claw its way to the surface. Fear.

I asked about it, and he was silent for a long time. At last, he said, ‘He told me,  _you know I love you. But this is bigger than us._ And then he left me to die. I know it’s selfish, but what I’m most afraid of is… that the way he loved me was… twisted. Broken.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that I don’t understand how you can love someone but still want them dead. And never talk to them about it. Never give them a chance.’ His hands clenched together until his knuckles went pale. ‘I’m not angry with him. I know he’s in pain, he’s lost, and all I want to do is show him that there’s another way. I just… can’t stop being afraid that he loved me, but not properly. Not enough.’

His voice cracked on the last words. ‘I… I’ve already lost Theron. I don’t want to lose the memories – the good ones – by thinking that it was never real. I can’t. I love him, and I thought he loved me and it was _real –_ ’

He hadn’t cried all this time, but now he pressed his face into his hands, shoulders shaking, and when he looked back up there was wetness smeared across his cheeks. The astromech beeped softly, and this time there were words contained in the sound.

_T7 = loves Jedi // Jedi = T7’s best friend // T7 = here._

The Commander closed his eyes, and placed his hand on the droid’s head.

* * *

**_Session:_ ** _Three_

He was a little calmer today. The shock of what happened is wearing off; he’s had time to turn it over in his mind, look at it from every angle, work through some of his tangled feelings. T7-O1 is still accompanying him – I’m not sure the droid has left his side since he returned from Umbara. Now I think about it, whenever I’ve seen the Commander about Odessen, he’s almost never by himself. Lana or Senya or Koth or even Arcann is there, right beside him.

Maybe that’s another reason why he’s calmer. I think he feels less alone.

‘I miss him,’ he told me. ‘For the first few weeks, I kept expecting to see him when I walked into a room. I kept waiting for him to finish my sentences. Someone would say something, and I’d know exactly what Theron would say, what joke he’d make – and there’d be silence. And that silence… felt like the forcefield coming down between us all over again. But now I’m not surprised by it any more. I’ve stopped turning to him in mission briefings, or – or reaching out for him when I wake up.’ He swallowed, and looked down. ‘I think this is worse.'

Another quiet bleep from T7: _Jedi = Tell Master Ayen about meditating problem._

I raised my eyebrows, and he glanced aside, as if embarrassed. ‘Oh. That. I’ve been having trouble meditating. My master told me once that every Force-user meditates in a different way - Lana says she looks inward, focuses on the power she feels smouldering inside her. My friend Kira used to focus on all the sources of life she could feel around her, and then let her senses spread out until she was lost in the living Force. My method is… time. I focus on the moment, and then I open myself up to the past and the future, until I can almost feel the whole universe collapsed into a single instant. But since Umbara... I can’t do that any more.’

There was no need to ask why – his emotions rose from him in a cloud. ‘Because your past has become tainted, and you’re afraid of the future.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Then first, we must cleanse the pain from your old memories. They hurt, because when you look back on them, you see only guilt and doubt. Guilt, because you think you didn't do enough to keep Theron's faith in you. Doubt, because you're questioning whether your bond was real.’

He looked down, and nodded.

I offered to search his emotions. This time, I looked at more than what lay on the surface. I went deeper, digging through his mind and his memories. It’s not the vicious ripping apart of a mind that Sith employ, but a gentle hand, opening only the doors he showed to me, and passing by those he kept shut. I let him choose the memories he wanted to dwell on, and I never looked closely, only taking in flashes: olive-coloured eyes, a rosette of bruises around fried-out implants, warm fingers tracing scars. And then a blur of voices -

_Working with you has made all this madness worthwhile._

_Haven't been one of those destiny people in a long time, but this sure feels like it._

_Would you listen if I asked you to be careful?_

_I_ _just wanted_ _to say - I love you._

_I'd do anything to protect you. It's over, Commander. You know I love you, but this is bigger than us. If that's the cost of peace, then so be it. This is goodbye._

_So be it (I love you) this is goodbye (anything to protect you) it's over -_

Closing my eyes, I let those images wash over me and fade away. It wasn't my place to look at them, only to look at the feelings that lay behind them. And there was no doubt about what I saw.

I emerged from the depths of the Force and into the present. ‘Commander. I can’t speak for Theron – I would need to have him here. But you… I can tell you that you did not fail. Don’t be afraid that you didn’t love him enough. Your feelings for him were – _are –_ strong and true and pure.' The words felt barely adequate. 'Nor did you fail as Alliance leader. I can see that every choice you made had no other motivation than to protect the galaxy, and that you have ached for everyone you failed to save. No one could possibly have asked more of you.’

‘Except for everyone who does ask more,’ he said. There was no bitterness in the words, only resignation.

‘But what do you ask of yourself?’

He was silent for some time, fiddling absently with his sash.

‘I blamed myself when Master Orgus died,’ he said at last. ‘And I blamed myself when Vitiate took control of me. I thought I could have done something to stop it. But as the years went on, I realised - if I blamed myself for everything, if I kept going over ifs and maybes, I'd drown. And on Ziost, when Vitiate asked me if I thought I’d achieved anything, I said that maybe I’d achieved nothing, but I had to try. And I thought, _in the war that’s coming, I am going to fail to save thousands of people. The only way I can live with that is if I try anyway. If I always try, I can’t ask more of myself.’_

'And you fear you haven't tried hard enough as Alliance Commander?'

‘Maybe I didn’t. But… I’m trying now. I’ll do whatever I can to find Theron and help him.’ There was a new feeling in both his voice and his aura: a quiet, burning resolution. ‘And I’ll do everything I can to make the Alliance into what Theron wanted it to be. Maybe that won’t be enough for him, but… perhaps it doesn’t need to be.  Maybe it just needs to be enough for _me.’_

He smiled. I hadn’t seen him do that since Umbara. ‘I can heal from this. I won’t be the same, and – and I’ll always love Theron, whatever comes. I’m not giving up on him. But I can live on my own, be happy on my own. I don’t want to have to. But I know I can, or… will be able to, eventually, even if it’s a long road.’

‘Then we need only take the first step. All the rest will follow.’ I returned his smile. ‘Try meditating again, here and now. And this time, don’t back away when you hit the pain. Acknowledge it. You don’t need to try to ignore it, or banish it, or let it go. Only accept that it hurts, and carry on.’

The Commander nodded and slipped off his chair to sit cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes, and the roar of his aura receded to a hum as he focused – and then it spiked, a flare of anguish that made my insides clench. But he squeezed his eyes a little tighter shut, bowed his head, and breathed the feeling in.

And little by little, his aura stilled as he drifted into the soft embrace of the Force.

* * *

**_Session:_ ** _Five_

Everything has changed.

When the Commander returned from Copero, and I sensed his emotions churning again, I feared the worst. But when he came to see me, there was something new about him. Something bright but hidden, like a candleflame kept in cupped hands, whose light and warmth is present but unable to touch anyone.

We talked through all that had happened on Copero, and his aura trembled as he described the moment when he set eyes on Theron for the first time since Umbara. I searched the emotions knotted within it, and found anguish, yes, longing, yes, but also the faintest spark of joy. Joy, because he had seen him, and knew he was alive.

I could tell that there was more, though. Something different, something that had caused that hidden candleflame of emotion. So I asked him if there was something he was holding back, and he looked down for a moment, drummed his fingers on T7’s metal shoulder, and nodded.

‘Hope,’ he said.

There was something about the simplicity and honesty of the statement that made a pang run through me. ‘You haven’t been letting yourself hope?’

He raised and lowered one shoulder in a slow half-shrug. ‘I think… I think I had doubts right from the beginning. Especially after you looked through my memories, and assured me that my love for Theron was… enough. Real. My instincts told me that Theron’s love for me was real, too. I stopped hiding from the memories of the time we’d spent together, and let myself look at them. And I realised that there was nothing fake about it. I knew him, and I knew it was real.’

A whirr from the astromech droid. _T7 = told Jedi to stop listening to Lana._

‘Lana?’ 

‘She’s convinced that Theron’s betrayal is real. I couldn’t tell her what I’m about to tell you now – she’s too angry. Angry that he betrayed her trust, cast aside their friendship… and that he hurt me.’ His lips twitch. ‘She’s a good friend.’

I realised then that I was beginning to feel hope too. ‘But you don't agree with her. You don’t think Theron has really betrayed the Alliance.’

‘I know him,’ the Commander said. ‘I know him, and I know me. I _would_ have seen it, if he’d lost his faith. He _would_ have talked to me about it. We _would_ have worked something out. He always does what's necessary, even when it's a harsh thing to do, but that doesn't mean he isn't a good man. A kind man. This isn’t him.’ I could tell he wasn’t merely trying to convince himself – the certainty was rippling from him in fierce waves. ‘And there have been transmissions we’ve intercepted, clues we’ve found left behind. Theron’s too skilled to let that happen – unless it’s deliberate. Unless he’s leaving us a trail.’

Then he looked down, and doubt pierced the new clarity of his thoughts like a claw. ‘But… I’ve been trying not to let myself think that. In case I'm wrong. Losing him once… it broke something in me. I don’t know if I can go through that a second time.’

‘Zeth,’ I said, and he looked up in surprise. It was the first time I had ever called him something other than _Master Menet_ or _Commander._ I think perhaps I should have started sooner.

‘I don’t know what Theron might be planning. I can’t know. But you can. Because you know him, and yourself, better than anyone. And if your knowledge of his feelings - and of your own - tells you that you have reason to hope, then _hope._ Whatever happens, whether you're right or not, I know for certain that you are strong enough to survive it.’

He smiled at me. ‘Maybe Theron knew that too.’

‘If you find out that this was a ruse, that he was always loyal to the Alliance, loyal to you – will you forgive him?’

It was a very personal question, I know. But I think in that moment we had gone beyond a commander and a healer. I think we were friends, two Jedi who have strayed so far from our Order, quietly talking together.

‘Yes,’ he said. There was no hesitation. ‘He’s hurt me. I’m not ignoring that. But wherever he is, I think he isn’t ignoring it either. And maybe it’ll take time for us to recover what we had, but… what was it you said a while back? About a long journey starting with small steps?’

T7 whistled, a cheerful sound, and I smiled. I think the Commander – Zeth – is right. I think all will be well, and Theron is the good man Zeth says he is. And perhaps I’m the dreamer Master Yuon always teased me for being, perhaps I still believe too much in those children’s stories where all disasters are misunderstandings and everyone, in the end, gets to live out their lives with the ones they love. Perhaps I believe too much in kindness and grace and happy endings.

But… stars above. If we don’t believe in love, what can we believe in?

* * *

**_LOG: CHANGES TO CLIENT RECORD_ **

**Clients’ names:**  Zethak Menet, Theron Shan

**Clients' ranks in Alliance:** Commander, Intelligence

**Reason for seeking counselling:** Relationship guidance

* * *

**_Session:_ ** _Six_

T7 didn’t come with the Commander today. Instead, Zeth came in smiling broadly, leading his fiancé by the hand.

‘Welcome back, Commander,’ I said, returning the smile. ‘And you too, Agent Shan.’ I hesitated, then added, ‘Thank you. For all you risked for us.’

Agent Shan made a small, wordless noise in reply. I hadn’t expected much more – his aura was, quite frankly, the most tense and tangled catastrophe I have ever sensed in my life. No darkness in it, nothing like that – just uncertainty, and weariness, and the bitter burning sting of self-hatred.

But layered over the top of all that mess... there was delight. Clean, bright delight in the man who sat next to him, clasping his hand.

‘First of all,’ I said, ‘congratulations on your engagement.’

Zeth beamed at me, and Agent Shan murmured a ‘thanks.’

‘So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?’

I looked at Zeth as I spoke, but to my surprise, it was Theron who replied, his gaze fixed on the floor. ‘The betrayal wasn’t real,' he said. 'The way I hurt Zeth was.  I have to understand everything I put him through, and we have to… we just have to talk before we can pick up where we left off. I mean, we’re –’

He stopped, seemingly searching for words, but Zeth finished for him. ‘We’re going to be okay,’ he says. ‘Everything turned out all right. But it can’t hurt to have someone help us get the rest of the pain out. And Theron –’ He glanced fondly at him – ‘Isn’t always best at sorting through what he’s feeling. No, Theron, don’t look at me like that,  you know it’s true. So I suggested we talk to you. I knew you could help us both work it all out.'

I looked a little closer into Theron’s aura, and what I saw made heat prick at my eyes. Helplessness _– there’s no other way, I’ll have to take them down from the inside, there’s no other way and it’s going to tear us both apart._ Grief – _Zeth, I’m sorry, I’m hurting you and I hate it I hate it._ Anger – _you’d hurt him, you’d hurt them all, I won’t let you._ Misery – _this isn’t me. Pretending to be someone else isn’t a thrill, a challenge, like it used to be. It just hurts._ Longing – _I miss him, I miss him every moment and it aches and even if this all works out he might never take me back. I won't deserve it._

It was almost overwhelming. But all the same, he kept radiating joy.

‘It’s going to take work,’ Theron said. He was looking up now, and almost smiling. ‘But it’ll be worth it.’

Zeth nodded. ‘ _We’re_ worth it.’

There are times when I wish I hadn’t been born an empath. It can eat at you, sensing all the pain and fear and hatred that simmers in the people around you. Wanting to help and knowing you can never help them all. Working your hands raw to save them, and thinking all the time, _who’ll save me?_

But then there are moments when I know I would not want to be any other way. Because I sense the beauty too. I sense things like what I sensed in that moment – one single, glowing feeling that swept everything else aside, something unshakeable as a planet, brighter than anything that could be felt by one person alone, something that felt as deep and strong and infinite as the Force itself.

It was more than love. It was forgiveness, and being forgiven. And it felt like light.

I leaned forward in my seat, and smiled at them. ‘Shall we begin?’


End file.
